I Am Not What I Am
by Ariadne Quinn
Summary: An AU story involving two people with two very different points of view. It begins at a country ball in 18th century England, though they won't actually speak to each other until their third encounter...
1. Chapter 1

I Am Not What I Am - Chapter 1

"Alice."

The sound of her name brought Alice back into the moment. She smiled as she turned to greet her friend. "Cassandra…where have you been?"

The other woman leaned forward to kiss Alice on the cheek. "Mother was fussing and fretting about her hair…it was beginning to look as if we would never get here." She glanced around the room, taking it all in. "Have I missed anything?"

"Several dances," Alice sighed. "Nothing of consequence."

Cassandra eyed her suspiciously. "Have you not danced yet?"

"No one has asked me…with gentleman once again so scarce, I very much doubt I will."

"I believe that depends on whether or not _he_ is in attendance."

Alice felt a burn in her cheeks. "I don't know who you're talking about."

"Do you not?"

She knew that Cassandra meant well, and was merely poking fun at her recent crush on a new acquaintance, but her words only served to vex Alice. "Why don't I get us some punch…"

"Alice…wait…"

"I'll only be a minute," she promised, disappearing into the crowd.

Safely anonymous among a sea of couples, Alice's thoughts returned to the matter she had been pondering before Cassandra's interruption. She was worried about her mother – the nearly 10 years she spent working as a seamstress were finally catching up with her. Although she denied it, Alice suspected that an excess of late nights sewing by candlelight were taking their toll on her eyesight; she didn't know how much longer she could last in her profession. Without her wages, Alice wasn't sure if they'd be able to afford her cousin's relatively low rent. And, despite the fact that she herself had recently found employment, she understood that hers was a fickle business, one that could not be relied upon as a steady source of income.

She cursed the day her father had abandoned them – without a son, his estate had fallen into the hands of a distant relative, who had no problem confiscating all their possessions. Alice knew she should be thankful that he had been willing to rent them a small apartment, but she thought it vulgar to charge them money for it…especially with jobs so difficult for women to come by.

Alice had reached the punchbowl, and was in the process of filling a second goblet when she was addressed. "Miss Hamilton, what a delight it is to see you again."

"Mr. Knight, the pleasure is all mine."

Mr. Knight was a man of advanced years – not rich, but polite and kind, if a bit odd. Alice had once introduced him to her mother in hopes they might hit it off…but it appeared that Mrs. Hamilton was determined to live out the rest of her days alone.

"How fares your mother?"

"She is well, sir. Thank you for asking."

"Is she here?" he inquired, searching the room.

"I'm sorry to inform you that she is not."

His face fell a bit, but he bore his disappointment well. "She is wiser than me – leaving the festivities to those young enough to enjoy them fully." He paused, thoughtful, then spoke again. "I'll infringe upon your time no longer. I'm sure you have many suitors impatiently waiting to request your hand. Good night, Miss Hamilton." He bowed slightly, then walked away.

On her way back to Cassandra, she spotted another gentleman across the room. He was standing alone, leaning on the mantle, his expression that of immense boredom. She knew without being told that _he_ would not dance. Why he bothered to come at all was a mystery to her.

When she reached her friend, she discretely pointed him out and shared with her an amusing anecdote that she had nearly forgotten – at the last ball, which she had also spent partnerless, Mr. Knight had suggested that this particular man ask her to dance…he had responded rudely, making a vulgar comment about her lack of beauty and grace, not knowing that she had been within earshot. Cassandra had missed the previous ball because of a cold, and the episode would have gone forever untold if that same man hadn't caught Alice's eye as she crossed the room.

At the time it happened, Alice had felt slighted…but now, in Cassandra's company, the humor of the situation was not lost on her. The two friends giggled about it as they sipped their punch, unaware the he was watching them.

Theophilus Carter sighed to himself while maintaining his impeccably projected façade. He knew Alice and her friend were laughing at him, and could guess the particulars of their conversation. He remembered the incident well - it had pained him to speak ill of her, and he had felt worse still when he turned around and caught a glimpse of her face before she merged into assembly of townspeople. She had definitely heard him. And his words wounded her.

If she only knew…he would ask her to dance every dance with him if he had a choice in the matter. It just so happened that he did not. He was on a special assignment for the queen, acting as a kind of bodyguard to her knavish son Jack while he explored the world of the "common folk." He held no fondness for mother or son, but accepted his assignment with a kind of secret excitement. Unbeknownst to the royal family, he was a member of an underground movement dedicated to overthrowing the monarchy. The fact that the queen trusted him to perform such a task was incredibly important…not just to him, but to the resistance as a whole.

And so, traveling incognito – posing as wealthy friends – the two had traveled up and down the country searching for…whatever it was the princeling was after. Theophilus was not privy to that particular bit of information.

On the way, Jack had caught the attention of many a young lady…all of them turned to mush by his chiseled good looks and easy manners. He showered them with attention, flirting and courting as he saw fit. And he engaged in these activities even though he had a lovely fiancée awaiting his return home.

Theophilus did not approve, but it was not his place to comment on the prince's affairs.

It was only recently, after the two had come across Miss Hamilton, that his objections had grown more…intense. The lady in question had caught both their fancies, though Theophilus kept this particular tidbit to himself. He was thrilled when Jack ordered him to learn all he could about the girl, thus affording him less time around the prince, and more time near her.

He found out about her father's mysterious disappearance and how it had forced her mother to work for a living…he got bits and pieces here and there, carefully fitting them together to weave a more complete picture for the prince. But there was one scrap of intel that Theophilus didn't share with the soon-to-be-ruler. And that was Alice's profession. He told himself this was because what she was doing was illegal, and could very well cost Alice her head…but, to a certain extent, he did it because he wanted part of her all to himself.

Alice, it seemed, had taken up martial arts, an activity forbidden to members of the gentler sex. She did so because she had feared for her and her mother's safety…without a man to protect them, she decided to take matters into her own hands. To undertake such training in spite of the risks was impressive…but the remarkable thing was how quickly and quietly the news had spread in certain circles. Fathers began to pay her to teach their daughters how to defend themselves…covert lessons in undisclosed locations soon commenced. In fact, even the rich were beginning to offer her large sums to tutor their daughters in the art of hand-to-hand combat.

It had taken some very fast talking and some very expensive items, but Theophilus managed to bribe his way to the scene of such a lesson. He had kept his distance, hidden among the trees, but he had a clear view of the goings on. Tales of her skill had not been exaggerated. Nor were the descriptions of her patience towards her students, many of whom had been taught from an early age that exercise was something a proper woman should not partake in.

It was her grace, though, that he admired most…the fluidity of her movement that touched him as he observed her.

Which made his offhand remark the worst kind of blasphemy.

"Is she here?"

Theophilus moved his head ever so slightly in the direction of the voice that had spoken. "Do you doubt my word?"

"Of course not…but perhaps she fell ill, or…"

"She's over there with her friend. A Miss Jane."

Jack practically bounded across the room, eager to finally dance with her, the loveliest of creatures. Theophilus watched him introduce himself to the ladies, noting with a touch of jealousy the excitement that washed over Alice's face as he addressed her. He'd seen that look on many of Jack's conquests…he had no doubt that she was smitten.

As was he.

Jack escorted her onto the dance floor as the next song began. She curtsied, he bowed, and they fell easily into the choreographed moves of this dance or another. Theophilus could study her openly now, under the guise of watching his "friend." Her short-sleeved dress was a pale blue, most likely made by her mother, with a white ribbon tied under her bust. It was hard to tell from this vantage point, but there appeared to be some kind of faint white design delicately embroidered on it. She wore white elbow length gloves and sported sprigs of baby's breath in her auburn hair, which was curled and pulled back, aside from the dark ringlets framing her face.

She was beautiful.

His expression remained stoic as he fingered the brim of his hat, passing it slowly from hand to hand.

Theophilus came to a decision then. He didn't know how he would manage it without tipping off – or ticking off – the prince, but he would find a way…he would somehow come up with a reason convincing enough…to dance with Miss Hamilton.

He was determined to win her heart.


	2. Chapter 2

I Am Not What I Am - Chapter 2

Several weeks had passed since that fateful night when Jack Chase asked Alice to dance. She had enthusiastically accepted the offer, and spent the rest of the night on the dance floor, as close to being in his arms as proper decorum would allow. The experience left her drunk with delight, to the point that she had insisted on walking home alone, in the dark, to clear her head. Mr. Chase, being an honorable gentleman, wouldn't hear of it…but she feared she might do something foolish if she spent another instant in his company. It was his friend who stood up on her behalf, and helped convince Mr. Chase to let her go. Alice suspected the man had other, ulterior motives for supporting her decision, but she refused to allow this thought to tarnish her evening.

Since then, Mr. Chase had called on her and her mother in their tiny apartment regularly. He always arrived unannounced, always stayed for far too short a time…and always brought Mr. Carter with him. Alice did not understand why Mr. Carter accompanied him on these visits…he spoke very little, and seemed apathetic about their stopping by. Of course, his indifference towards everything and everyone that crossed his path had grown into somewhat of a legend throughout town, so neither Alice nor her mother took this personally. Still, Mrs. Hamilton constantly went out of her way to engage him in conversation when he and Mr. Chase dropped in, as if hoping to discover a topic that might be of interest to him. Her words were continually met with cool, cordial responses, each one designed to politely cut off the dialogue his hostess was so eager to begin.

His attitude puzzled Alice greatly, to the point that she soon became obsessed with it. At first she kept her speculations to herself…but they started to bubble over as her mother helped her prepare for the next ball.

"He's just so…" her voice trailed off. She studied her mother's reflection in the mirror, touching up the curls that framed her face once more. "I don't understand what Mr. Chase sees in him."

Mrs. Hamilton used a bobby pin to secure some stray strands of hair, focused more on her daughter's appearance than her present concerns. "Perhaps he's shy."

"Shy? You can't be serious…"

"I've seen shyness mistaken for pride on more than one occasion." She stepped back and admired her daughter in the candlelight. "Alice, you are truly a vision of loveliness. I only hope your Mr. Chase arrives early, otherwise he might not have an opportunity to dance with you."

Alice blushed. "You exaggerate…and you're changing the subject."

But Mrs. Hamilton would discuss the topic no further. She hurried Alice down the stairs and into the carriage a kindly neighbor had agreed to share with her daughter, so she might arrive with a degree of dignity. For the second time in a row, Carol Hamilton was too tired to attend the ball herself; she wove her handkerchief high above her head as she watched the carriage disappear into the night.

Meanwhile, Alice forced herself to make small-talk with her neighbors, even though her mind was still wrestling with whatever it was that made Mr. Carter tick. It was a relief to arrive at the large hall, where she was able to graciously escape their company and seek out Cassandra…for it was her opinion on the matter that she sincerely wished to hear.

It was as she was maneuvering her way through the crowded halls that she accidentally bumped into the man in question. The force of their collision would have knocked her over, if it wasn't for the fact that he grabbed her arm to steady her.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice soft and…distressed?

"Yes," she replied, shaking off his hand and taking a step back. "Pardon me, Mr. Carter. I didn't see you there."

"Not at all." Now his voice was even, and his face betrayed absolutely no concern for her well being whatsoever. He bowed slightly, then moved out of her way.

More confused than ever, she returned to her previous quest, finally locating her dearest friend standing along the windows of the next room. They had barely exchanged hellos when the story of Alice's most recent encounter with Mr. Carter spilled out, followed by a number of various observations she had made in the previous weeks. Cassandra bore her companion's rambles patiently, only occasionally glancing around to make sure that no one was eavesdropping.

"Well?" Alice asked after she had gotten it all out. "What do you think?"

Cassandra paused to consider the assorted details Alice had just shared with her. "I think…I think it best you not know what I think."

"Please," she pleaded. "You're the only one I can talk to about this, aside from mother, and she was more interested in _my_ looks than _his_ behavior. I need to hear someone else's view on the subject."

"I think," Cassandra began carefully, "that you are far more interested in deciphering Mr. Carter's actions than you are in securing Mr. Chase's affections."

Alice was about to protest when a man cleared his throat behind her. She turned, only to find herself face to face with Mr. Carter.

"Pardon my interruption, Miss Jane," he said, bowing, "but I have a message for Miss Hamilton."

Cassandra curtsied. "Is this a private message, sir? Shall I make myself scarce?"

"No need," he assured her, before addressing Alice. "Mr. Chase sends his regrets, but urgent business has prevented him from attending tonight's festivities."

Alice could not keep the disappointment from her voice. "Please tell Mr. Chase that I understand, and I hope that the pressing matters which precluded his presence here are concluded quickly and to his satisfaction."

Content with her response, she curtsied and was about to turn away when Mr. Chase spoke again. "I will relay your message with pleasure, but I wasn't finished with my own."

"I'm sorry; please continue."

"Mr. Chase also wanted you to know that he would not be offended if you were to partake in the merriment without him…he didn't want you to…feel obligated to turn down a man who asked you to dance…on his behalf."

The room suddenly felt empty, aside from the two of them. She was a little caught off balance by his speech…although it sounded rehearsed, it was…a touch…awkward. It was also the most he had ever said to her at once. And…Alice thought she heard something else in his words, a kind of ambiguous invitation of some sort. But she couldn't be entirely sure. "Thank you, sir. I shall keep that in mind."

Before she could return to Cassandra, Mr. Carter added one more thing. "Would you do me the honor of dancing the next dance with me, Miss Hamilton?"

Alice was rooted to the spot. She despised him…yet she was fascinated by him as well, as much as she was loathe to admit it. She wracked her brain for an acceptable excuse…sadly, none was forthcoming. "Of course."

There was a twitch in the corner of his mouth, but it disappeared almost as soon as she perceived it. He bowed again and walked away, presumably allowing her to finish her previous conversation before taking her up on her promise.

The rest of the world came back all at once – the music, the clanging of silverware, the loud buzz of mindless chatter – she was overwhelmed by the sudden array of sounds, stunned sight of the crowded room. She finally turned back to Cassandra, dazed. "What just happened?"

But her friend appeared equally shocked. "I'm not quite sure."

They had no time to discuss recent events, however. The final notes of the current song hung in the air, giving couples a chance to applaud, take a breath, or exit the dance floor as they wished. The next song began, and Cassandra had to push Alice towards the center of the hall. Mr. Carter appeared out of nowhere, placing one hand gently on her waist, while he took her right hand in her own, leading them to an empty space within the couples.

The ladies, all in a line, curtsied in unison, then the gentlemen followed suit and bowed. Alice watched her partner reach out and take the hands of the woman next to her, spinning in a circle before returning to his spot across from her. She did the same with the gentleman to his right…there was a pause, and suddenly it was their chance to dance together. She felt gauche and exposed, as if the entire array of guests was watching them…she thought it best to employ him in conversation, in an attempt to overcome this discomfort.

"Does Mr. Chase often find himself called away on matters of business?"

"No."

"It must have been important, then, if he had to leave on such short notice."

"Yes."

Alice sighed. She was getting nowhere fast. She enjoyed a brief reprieve whilst they were separated by the nuances of the dance, but when they came together again, she could hold her tongue no longer. "It's your turn to speak, Mr. Carter." When he didn't respond, she continued. "You might comment on the decorations…the number of couples…the quality of the refreshments…"

"Any of these topics are acceptable to me…which is your preference?"

This was not the answer she expected. "None of them," she replied honestly.

"Why did you mention them? Do you talk often when you dance?"

"Sometimes I think it best."

"How so?"

They had stopped again – other couples were dancing around them, and they had to wait their turn. She shook her head. "I simply think conversation is a far better way to get to know someone than…sulking in the corner."

He didn't flinch as he stepped forward and reached for her hands. "And I believe that observing a situation from afar may assist one in developing a more complete assessment of an individual, rather than walking in with a predetermined opinion."

Alice refused to take another step until she understood where he meant. So they stood, unmoving, in what should have been the empty space between the rows of men and women. "Just what are you insinuating?"

"That you are always far too willing to accept every person on his or her merit, without questioning their motives."

"I'd rather do that than willingly find every person disagreeable without ever speaking a word to them."

They moved once more, circling each other, eyes locked in battle. "A man cannot own to the kind of innocence your conduct implies. It would make him appear weak to others."

"Really? I have met many a young man willing…nay, eager to converse…men who were held in the highest esteem of their peers."

"I…" he paused, though he refused to lower his gaze. "I am a very private person, Miss Hamilton, and I know no one in this place."

"And you never will if you don't make some kind of attempt to communicate. Standing around, glaring at everyone, is hardly an invitation to chat."

He looked as if he wished to say more, but the music trailed off, ending the dance. The sound of other people clapping broke their gaze, and they both absently joined in the applause. Alice was about to continue their conversation, but before she could get another word out, he had bowed and practically run off, leaving her alone on the dance floor. Cassandra hurried over to fetch her, dragging her to as private a corner as she could find.

"Well?" Her eyes gleamed with excitement.

"Well what?"

"That looked…intense," she breathed. "What did you two talk about?"

Alice glanced back to where she had been dancing a moment ago, then returned her eyes to her friend. "Nothing of consequence."

Luckily, the number of males and females was more evenly matched at this ball, so both girls found themselves engaged for the rest of the night…and Alice didn't have a chance to elaborate. Nor did she allow herself a moment to think on it.

Meanwhile, Theophilus had retreated outside for some air. From the moment he had grabbed Alice's arm to prevent her from falling, he felt…different. Touching her bare skin, soft and smooth beneath his hand, brought him a kind of exhilaration he had never known. That he should be fortunate enough to encounter her at a ball where she was _not_ wearing gloves was... a happy coincidence. It was all he could do to keep his focus every time she slipped her hands into his as they danced…their dance. He frowned. She didn't seem to think too highly of him. Still…there was a kind of passion behind her speech…that at least told him that she was not indifferent towards him. It was a start.

When Jack returned, he would suggest they invite Mrs. Hamilton and her daughter over for dinner…perhaps Charles Knight as well…an intimate gathering of friends. She would not be able to avoid him if the group was kept small, even if she wished to.

His heart quickened at the thought of trading barbs with her again…


	3. Chapter 3

I Am Not What I Am - Chapter 3

Mr. Chase was gone for two weeks. Immediately upon his return, after consulting with Mr. Carter, he sent out letters requesting the presence of a select few at his residence for dinner at week's end, unaware of what the weather held in store.

It would rain for three days straight.

The first day, Friday, began with a drizzle that became increasingly heavier as the day progressed. But Jack was determined to carry on with the evening's plans, refusing to even consider putting them off 'til the following week. He did, however, follow his friend and protector's sage advice, sending his covered carriage to fetch the ladies. Theophilus knew how unlikely it was that the Hamiltons owned a carriage of any sort, never mind one that would protect them from the elements. It was the little things like this that kept him in the prince's good graces – raised in the lap of luxury, it never would have occurred to Jack that Alice and her mother were wanting of something he considered to be an essential. That's what he had Theophilus for.

The two women arrived at the estate warm and dry, thankful for Mr. Chase's benevolence. They were surprised to see that Mr. Knight had made the trip as well, but he explained that he had come much earlier, when the rain was less of a hindrance. The modest party enjoyed a bit of casual conversation before they sat down for dinner, then went on to play a stimulating game of cards. A nice time was had by all.

For her part, Alice wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed that Mr. Carter never directly addressed her. Although Mr. Chase was all smiles and sweetness, showering her with attention, there was something wanting in his affections. Indeed, without Mr. Carter's…razor-sharp observations cutting away at her honor, she found the events of the night rather dull.

It was only when the game came to an end, and she and her mother were making their farewells that things started to get interesting.

"You're not leaving," Jack cried as the ladies curtsied. "Not yet."

"I'm afraid we must," Mrs. Hamilton replied. "The hour grows late."

Mr. Carter, who had retreated to the far wall, and was now staring into the blackness beyond the window, spoke. "I don't think we can allow that."

The word "allow" burned in Alice's mind…like she and her mother were children asking for permission return to their own home. It was outrageous. "And what authority do you claim to have over my mother and myself?"

Mr. Carter turned his head just enough so he could meet her contemptuous glare. "I can make no such assertion, and apologize if my words have caused offence. I only meant to point out that, if Mother Nature has a say, you shan't be going anywhere tonight."

In the silence that followed, the rest of party finally noticed the sharp tapping of water against glass – like the sound of a poverty-stricken boy playing drums on a collection of rusty tin cans. Alice stormed over to the window and looked outside, but there was literally nothing to see.

"It's very likely," Mr. Carter began quietly, his voice so close that Alice jumped at the sensation of his warm breath caressing the back of her neck, "that the roads are impassable. Too much rain has fallen too quickly…I daresay they will have been reduced to the kind of mud that devours any carriage foolish enough to journey out into this tempest." She turned to face him, infuriated by his logical assessment of the situation at hand. "You are not a prisoner here…if you'd like to take your chances, I'll call for the carriage at once. But don't expect me to ride to your rescue when the wheels sink into the soggy earth."

"I would never, in a million years, wish for you to come to my rescue," she replied softly, seethingly.

The others had missed the nuances of their conversation, but Mrs. Hamilton agreed with Mr. Carter's initial statement. She walked up to her daughter and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Alice, perhaps he's right."

"We are perfectly willing, and equipped, to put you up for the night," Mr. Carter said, throwing a look at Mr. Chase.

"Yes, yes, of course!" Jack bounded across the room. "You're more than welcome to stay…this is such a large house; with so many rooms…it often feels quite empty. It would be delightful to have additional occupants, if only for a short while."

"But we have nothing to wear," Alice protested through clenched teeth. "It wouldn't be proper…"

Lightly, almost intentionally mockingly, Mr. Carter interrupted her. "I believe we have some of Mr. Chase's sister's clothes in one of the closets…is that not so, Mr. Chase?"

Mr. Chase looked confused for a moment, as if he had forgotten the existence of his sister…but his expression cleared after a few seconds of thought. "Come to think of it, you may be right." He turned to the women. "You are welcome to my sister's things during your stay; I must admit that the wardrobe she left behind may not be as extensive as you'd like, but…"

"Thank you, I'm sure it will be more than adequate," Mrs. Hamilton said gratefully.

"Mr. Knight, you are welcome to stay as well," Mr. Carter offered. "I would not want you to risk your health in this treacherous weather."

"I believe I'll take you up on that," Mr. Knight replied, the last to join the group by the window.

"Let us show you to your rooms, then," Mr. Chase said, eager to play host. "We shall retire for the night, and hope that tomorrow brings us a more cheerful forecast."

And so the group spread out into assorted bedrooms – Alice and her mother insisted on sharing one, to prevent any kind of gossip that might emerge should this impromptu sleepover ever get out – and went to bed. Each one said a different prayer before drifting off to sleep, though their wishes were divided between the sexes. The men hoped the storm would continue, so they may enjoy the Hamiltons' company a while longer; the women wanted to leave as soon as possible, each concerned about the impact the weather might have on their respective careers…

* * * * *

The rain gods favored the men. Water continued to fall from the sky in thick sheets the whole of Saturday, without a hint of letting up. The small party passed the time agreeably enough, amusing themselves with a variety of different activities, including lively conversation, games, a tour of the house, and some quiet time reading. After dinner, Mr. Chase and Mr. Knight even convinced Alice to entertain them with a brief performance on the pianoforte, though she strenuously objected to the idea due to her lack of skill on the instrument. But the two men were overflowing with praise after she stumbled her way through the piece they had chosen, applauding her musical talent.

Once again, Mr. Carter spent the entire day speaking only when absolutely necessary, and never to Alice. That evening, he didn't comment either way on her playing, clapping politely when she was finished, then excusing himself. Alice remained with the others for another hour or so, but she grew restless…she didn't like being cooped up indoors for extended periods of time. She asked Mr. Chase permission to roam the premises. He was more than willing to give her full access to any room she wished, and offered to accompany her, but she needed some time alone with her thoughts, so she respectfully declined his company.

Wandering the empty halls on her own, with only a solitary candle to light her way, Alice felt like a character in a Gothic horror novel. She watched the shadows on the walls shift as she moved down the corridors; she loved how they danced in time with the flickering flame. She tried to imagine what evils might be hidden behind each of the doors to her right – could this one hold a skeleton, perhaps, still chained to the wall? Behind the next one, an evil magician who had tricked Mr. Chase into providing him a place of refuge for course of the storm stood, plotting…he had come to steal a certain mystical ring housed in Mr. Chase's private collection. Another room held a pair of mad scientists trying to raise the dead. The following room was a bedroom, where a vampire lurked in the shadows, waiting for a young lady, like herself, to wander in unsuspectingly…ready to pounce on his prey. Whether he would bleed her dry or make her his bride, he had not yet decided. Only time would tell…

Just then, a clicking sound echoed in the darkness. Alice stopped in her tracks and listened. When she heard it again, she tiptoed towards it, determined to investigate. It was not difficult to pinpoint its source – dim light spilled into the hall under the crack of but one door. What manner of apparition would she find in this room…ghosts? Angels? Demons? She hesitated with her hand on the knob, the wind howling all around the house, warning her not to go any further. But she must. She had to.

Alice flung open the door.

There stood Mr. Carter, pool cue in one hand, studying the assorted colored balls on the table before him. His coat had been thrown over a nearby chair, along with his cravat. Although his waistcoat remained intact, the top few buttons of the shirt beneath were unfastened, and his shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. And his hair…it had a slightly disheveled look to it, one that was somehow more fitting than the standard combed mane he always sported. He did not seem to be startled by her sudden appearance…but Alice perceived a subtle shift in his features. It was as if he slipped on a mask when he became aware of her presence, hiding his true self from her.

"Miss Hamilton," he said, bowing.

Alice responded by bursting into a fit of laughter. Mr. Carter didn't react; he simply returned to his game. After a few minutes, Alice had sufficiently calmed herself down so she could explain herself. "I'm sorry, Mr. Carter…walking these halls by oneself on a night like this…I'm afraid my imagination got the better of me."

"You were expecting some sort of specter?" he asked evenly, lining up his next shot.

"Yes…I suppose…it must sound utterly ridiculous." She realized she was making a fool of herself, and started to leave. "I didn't mean to intrude upon your privacy."

"You're not."

She turned around to discover that she now had his full attention.

"You may stay if you wish."

"I…" Alice was suddenly very aware of how handsome Mr. Carter was…while his false expression remained steadfastly in place, his attitude seemed… more relaxed. More himself than she had ever seen before. "…I really must be going."

"Join me in a game?"

"Really, Mr. Carter. You know very well that women are not supposed to indulge in such masculine pastimes."

It might have been a trick of the light emanating from the candle she still held in her hand, but Alice swore she saw a sparkle of mischief in his eyes. "That never stopped you before."

She froze as the words sunk in. How could he possibly know about…her illicit pastime? Was he trying to intimidate her? Or…was she overreacting? Was this merely a means to get a rise out of her? She watched him watch her as he waited for a reply. "I don't know what you're talking about. Good night, sir." She curtsied, and moved to leave a second time.

Mr. Carter came around the pool table and caught her arm right before she could reach for the doorknob. His touch was warm; gentle, but firm. "Miss Hamilton, it was not my intention to upset you just now."

She raised her eyes and noticed a crack in his impeccably crafted façade. One that betrayed some kind of raw emotion she was unable to identify. "Mr. Carter…"

"I know." He paused so she could digest the words that only served to confirm her initial fears. "And now you know that I know. That is not a threat, it is a statement of fact. But I want you to know that I don't intend on telling another soul."

Alice nodded slightly. The idea that someone outside her own chosen circle of clientele was aware of her clandestine business terrified her. But she knew Mr. Carter to be a man of his word. She trusted him not to divulge her actions to anyone else.

"Don't tell Mr. Chase," he urged, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Share whatever information about yourself you wish…but never, under any circumstances, reveal your means of moneymaking to him."

She shook her head in agreement again, and he released her arm. Running his hand through his hair, he returned to the pool table. "Sleep well, Miss Hamilton," he said with his back to her, his voice strained.

Alice left him, closing the door quietly behind her, and went straight to her room. If she was searching for a Gothic fiction, she had certainly found one. That night, her dreams were haunted by her very own Byronic hero, Mr. Theophilus Carter…

* * * * *

The following morning brought no mention of the night before. Mr. Carter acted as he always had, and Alice tried to do the same. But it was difficult to prevent her current concerns from showing on her face. It was not just the incident with Mr. Carter that troubled her…both she and her mother were expected to be at work on Monday – her mother in the dress shop and she in a field, meeting with the daughter of one of her wealthiest patrons. The consequences of either woman failing to appear would be very serious. And despite the fact that the rain finally seemed to be easing up, it was unlikely that the roads would be conducive to travel for at least a day after it stopped completely.

It took until lunch for Mr. Chase to comment on her solemn mood.

"You are in ill spirits today, Miss Hamilton…are you displeased with your stay here?"

"Not at all," Alice assured him. "You and Mr. Carter have provided us with a great deal of amusement. But my mother is expected at work tomorrow, and we both fear what might happen if she is unable to make it."

"Her employer couldn't possibly…"

"He will," she said with certainty.

"Then I shall write him a note, and tell him…"

"All due respect, sir, you will not tell him anything he doesn't already know. We must find a way to get her to town in the morrow…" And that was only half her problem.

Theophilus, who until then had sat silently on the other end of the table, suddenly decided to join the conversation. "I'll go."

Alice wasn't sure what he meant. "Come again?"

He dabbed his mouth with his napkin and stood. "I'll go to your mother's boss right now and see what can be done."

"Good God, Carter, are you mad? You'll surely catch your death!"

Once again, Theophilus could see what Jack could not, and that was the fact that Mrs. Hamilton's job was of the utmost importance to her and her daughter's survival. Without it, the two would most likely be turned onto the street, destitute. He refused to let that happen. "You exaggerate, Mr. Chase."

"And how do you expect to get there, with the roads in the state they're in?"

"I expect that will be a challenge, but I'm sure I'll find a way."

"Why is it that you may leave, while you insist that my mother and I stay?" Alice asked. Her tone should have dripped with sarcasm…yet it remained civil.

"I would not have you exposed to the treacherous conditions I anticipate facing…it will not be an easy ride – I'll probably have to spend a good part of it searching for firm ground to travel across. I'm sure I will be drenched, dirty, and fatigued upon my return. But if you desire to leave, we can call for horses and send you on your way."

Mr. Carter made a good point. If it was just herself, she would willingly brave the situation outside…but she did not want her mother to have to deal with it. "Thank you, sir, for explaining yourself. I yield to your good sense."

He nodded politely as flash of surprise quickly came and went from his eyes. "I'll leave straight away. Where is your mother?"

Mrs. Hamilton and Mr. Knight, both of whom had slept in that morning and, as a result, decided to have brunch a full hour before the others dined on their midday meal, were in the drawing room. The young people went there directly; they found Mr. Knight napping in one of the chairs, and Mrs. Hamilton staring out a window at the swirling gray clouds, in a feeble attempt to will them away.

"Mother," Alice began softly, so as not to wake Mr. Knight. "Mr. Carter has graciously offered to ride over to Mr. Turner's house so we may discover what his plans are in regards to opening the shop tomorrow."

"That's really not necessary," Carol said, looking past her daughter to Mr. Carter. "I'm perfectly capable of walking the route tomorrow, if the roads are still unsuitable for horses."

"Mother!"

"I am not a child, Alice. My eyes may be getting weak, but my legs are still strong. I'm in good health…a bit of exercise would do me a world of good."

"I do not doubt your abilities, Mrs. Hamilton," Theophilus said, stepping between her and Alice. "My only concern is the comfort and well-being of my guests. Please, allow me to go on this errand for you…it's likely the shop will remain closed tomorrow, since customers will have a great deal of difficulty getting there. Perhaps we may save you the trouble of walking such a distance."

"But the rain…"

"As you said to your daughter, I will now say to you – I am not a child. I know full well what I have proposed…I have a strong constitution, and will return no worse for wear. I'll not rest until I have your consent to seek out your employer."

For a moment, Carol stood in silent admiration for Mr. Carter's quiet, yet assertive, way. He seemed to be of a rare breed of gentlemen, one seldom found in today's society. He reminded her of her husband, though the two men were nothing alike. She had not forgotten the words she had spoken to her daughter as she carefully placed flowers in the younger woman's hair before she left for the most recent ball…and she began to suspect that her statement applied to this young man. He was not vein, he simply had a more reserved character than most.

"If it will ease your mind to do so, then I shall not stop you. If you bring me a quill and ink, I'll write down the address."

While Mr. Chase took it upon himself to point out the nearest desk, removing the necessary materials from its drawers, Mr. Carter excused himself to prepare for his journey. Alice followed him into the hall.

"Sir, I appreciate the fact that you are willing to perform this service personally, but would it not be easier to send a servant?"

He was several steps ahead of her, rounding a corner just as she finished speaking. Determined to get an answer, Alice quickened her pace, and was startled when she found him pressed against the wall perpendicular to the corridor she had been walking. He seized her arm and pulled her closer than etiquette would normally permit.

"Miss Hamilton," he murmured in a voice so low she could scarce hear it herself. "Do you have any appointments tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"I thought as much. Then I shall also be delivering your messages to whomever you desire. This is a duty I would trust to no other."

Between their close proximity and the thoughtfulness of the sentiment he expressed, Alice found herself momentarily at a loss for words. But time was of the essence, so she was forced to push her feelings aside. "There is but one family I need to contact."

"Then write what you must in a letter, but do so quickly. You will find everything you need in the small desk of the bedroom you've been staying in. I'll come by in a few minutes."

He let go of her arm and continued down the hall; she ran towards her room. She found what she needed easily enough, and composed a brief note to the family, canceling their prior arrangement. She also requested that the patriarch of the household name another date in the near future that could make up for their missed lesson. Alice was in the process of sealing the letter when there was a knock at her door.

"It's open."

Mr. Carter wasted no time – he walked directly up to the desk and held his hand out. "Do you require a response?"

Alice fanned the letter in the air in an attempt to hasten the cooling of the wax. "I'm afraid I do."

He plucked the paper from her hand and examined the seal, then flipped it over to the address. "I will wait for one."

He had already tucked it away in the depths of his clothing, and was almost out the door before she could bring herself to call after him. "Mr. Carter…."

"Yes?"

But there was nothing to say…words could not begin to express what she wanted to convey. So Alice was reduced to a generic turn of phrase. "Be safe."

He nodded, then left, closing the door behind him.

After collecting herself, Alice rejoined the others in the study. Mr. Knight had awakened from his brief respite refreshed, and was ready for some action. Mr. Chase suggested that they play a game he had recently come across during a trip to France – charades. Once he explained the rules to the group, they had to break up into teams…something easier said than done. Apparently everyone wanted Alice on their team. At length, it was decided that they would rotate partners. Round one was women against men.

The game itself ended up being tremendously diverting, to the point that even Alice briefly forgot about Mr. Carter's tedious trek…but by the third round, her amusement was fading fast and her anxiety growing by the minute. He had left hours ago…what could be keeping him? By then, it was her and Mr. Chase against her mother and Mr. Knight. When he observed that she had grown distracted, Mr. Chase patted her hand reassuringly.

"Don't fret, Miss Hamilton. I'm sure Mr. Turner will allow your mother a day off."

She forced a smile and muttered something in agreement, glad that he mistook her solicitude for Mr. Carter's welfare as distress over her mother's job…though she was unable to keep herself from adding, "What if we had a hot bath waiting for Mr. Carter? Upon his return, he will most likely be cold and soiled."

"That's an excellent idea," Mr. Chase proclaimed. "I shall order one at once." He called for a servant and gave instructions to start heating up water for a bath, to be ready as soon as possible, since it was probable that Mr. Carter would be arriving soon.

Alice relaxed a little after that, though Mr. Carter's whereabouts never completely escaped her thoughts. Shortly thereafter, charades came to an end and they sat down for supper. Mr. Chase assured both Alice and her mother that Mr. Carter insisted that they eat without him, should his journey keep him away for the bulk of the afternoon…the two women were uncomfortable with this, but did not want to insult their host, so they didn't protest.

They were just finishing dessert when Mr. Carter entered the dining room. He was soaked through and through, his clothes clinging to every inch of his body, his hair plastered to his forehead. He didn't give anyone a chance to speak. "Mrs. Hamilton, I'm happy to inform you that your employer intends on keeping his shop closed tomorrow, and possibly Tuesday as well. He has promised to send word both here and your own residence tomorrow eve to let you know for certain." He gestured to the servant who had followed him into the room – the other man stepped forward, and held out a large piece of cloth. "He did, however, ask me to bring you this material, that you might be able to begin work on a new dress in the meantime."

Mrs. Hamilton rose to examine the fabric. "Thank you, sir."

"I did my best to prevent the elements from sullying it…I believe I have succeeded, though it probably needs to be pressed. I can have that done for you tonight, if you wish."

"If it's not too much trouble…"

"It's no trouble at all." He glanced at the servant, who bowed and exited without delay. "It will be ready for you at breakfast."

"Does the rain still fall in torrents?" Alice asked from the table, unable to remain silent a minute longer.

"It's but a drizzle now…I'm sure it will end soon. If the sun is out the whole of the day tomorrow, you could probably make it home on horseback, if you left late enough in the afternoon. But I'm afraid it will be several days before carriages will be able to drive on the roads."

"There's no rush…you're welcome to stay as long as you want," Mr. Chase interjected, as if his friend was intent on kicking them out.

"Of course," Mr. Carter agreed.

"Carter, you're a mess," Mr. Chase said quickly, suddenly in a rush to get rid of him. "I've had a hot bath drawn for you, why don't you go enjoy it?"

Mr. Carter bowed and left the room, his shoes audibly squishing with each step.

Alice waited three-quarters of an hour, then announced that she was going to bring Mr. Carter some tea. Mr. Chase tried to talk her out of it, since he had servants enough to attend to Mr. Carter's needs, but she felt it was the least she could do after all the trouble he went through on her and her mother's behalf. She said goodnight to everyone before heading to the kitchen, where she picked up a large silver tray that held a small tea set as well as a variety of leftovers from the night's meal.

She carefully made her way up the stairs and towards his room, balancing the tray precariously on one hand as she knocked on his door lightly.

"Come in."

She entered the room and was surprised to see him wearing a banyan…and nothing else. The sight of his bare chest beneath the open robe made her inhale sharply. He was seated at a desk facing her, writing something, but he looked up when he heard her gasp.

He moved to stand when he saw who it was.

"Miss Hamilton…"

"No, please. Sit."

He paused partially erect, thought about it a moment, then returned to his seat…hastily pulling the sides of his banyan together, so they formed a neat "V" beneath at the base of his throat. "I wasn't expecting you."

"I wanted to…I thought you might be hungry."

He gathered the papers on his desk and slid them in a drawer, so she could place the tray down before him. "Thank you…I'm famished."

While she poured them both a cup of tea, he fetched a chair from across the room so that she could sit with him. When they were both settled, he handed her a piece of paper. "I suppose you came for this."

It took Alice a minute to figure out what it was…a response to her letter. She had completely forgotten about it. And right now, it didn't seem particularly important. She placed it on the side and leaned in towards him. "Mr. Carter, I don't know how I can ever repay you for your kindness today…"

He took a sip of tea and leaned back in his chair, studying her in the dim candlelight. "I suspect you've done much for me already."

"I don't…"

"Were you not the one to suggest a bath be prepared?"

"How did you…?"

"And this…obviously your idea. I'm sure Mr. Chase was horrified by the proposal…yet you went through with it anyway."

She wondered how he came to these conclusions, but did not deny them. "It was the least I could do."

"Then allow me to thank you in return, and consider us even."

"But…"

"I insist."

Alice remained with him while he dined…but little else was said. Mr. Carter was clearly exhausted from the day's excursion, so she decided to be a taciturn companion for the duration of his meal. Even in silence, she found that she got a certain thrill from being in the same room with him…sharing the same space, breathing the same air. When he had eaten his fill, she took leave of him, making sure to drop off the tray at the kitchen on her way to her room. It was only after she had changed into her nightclothes that she thought to read the note, which simply stated how unfortunate it was that the weather would prevent them from meeting tomorrow, and asked if the lesson could be rescheduled for the following week. Alice sighed as she climbed into bed. Martial arts training was the last thing on her mind right now…

In his own room, Theophilus lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He was shivering under the covers, unable to escape the chill that had entered his bones during his outing…a precursor to falling ill, no doubt. But he didn't care. His thoughts were focused on Alice – the scent of her skin when he pulled her close, the tone of her voice when she wished him a safe trip, the expression on her face when she poured him tea…his infatuation had grown exponentially over the weekend…it was more akin to a deeper, more profound feeling now. One he did not wish to name, since a relationship between the two of them was all but impossible.

If he ever revealed his true identity to her – a lowly servant of the crown prince – he was sure he would lose her. Not because he believed her shallow enough to have eyes only for his pocketbook…but because he knew she held honesty and truth in the highest regard. She would never forgive him for the disguise he chose to wear, the lie he chose to live.

It was hopeless…


End file.
